


Laps Around the Sun

by euromagpie



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Qs are nothing but trouble and they love it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6639658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euromagpie/pseuds/euromagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months into the Five Year Mission, a, quite frankly Extremely Weird Person, appears and latches onto the Enterprise crew. What is a Q anyway?</p><p>(Q OC w/ focus on Q doing dumb shit. Not a romance. Various timelines have been fucked with and other Star Trek characters may appear in an altered state.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Leonard grumbled as he punched in the last entry, saving the data. He quickly moved across sickbay and stashed the latest blood sample, before returning to the young man sat on a biobed rubbing his arm.

“Alright ensign, you’re done. Don’t you go kickin’ up any hornet’s nest between now and the next physical, a’ight? I’ve got enough on my plate without spending my time kissing your boo-boos better. Especially if it concerns Orion gonorrhoea.”

The ensign nodded sheepishly.

“Got it, doc. And uh, thanks.”

“Ah, go on, git!” Leonard waved him off. The ensign took this as permission to slip off the biobed and out of the door. Leonard pressed his palms tiredly into his eye sockets until he saw spots. Despite having tied up the monthly crew physicals, it didn’t mean he could go sleep; no, he had a PADD stack up to his shoulder to get through, everything from reports to file, to reports to _sign_ , to evaluations to submit, his only company a bottle of bourbon he’d liberated from Scotty’s stash. A long sigh escaped him before he straightened up.

“You okay there, Len? You look _awful_.”

Leonard turned to see the concerned eyes of Christine Chapel on him. That concern was very rude of her considering he _knew_ she was working almost as long a shift as he, yet she still looked _radiant_ , her beehive hairstyle polished, and makeup still immaculate. He shook his head before she could whip out her tricorder at him.

“’m fine Chris – nothin’ a sleep-hypo can’t fix.”

Christine’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you _dare_ , Len, you’ve been hissing hypos like nobody’s business for the last _week_. You _know_ they’re no substitute for a good night’s REM sleep.”

He opened his mouth to protest but she just waved her hand in his face.

“No, no arguments! You have an ACMO for a reason; you go sleep – I’ll call Jabilo to fill in for Beta shift early.”

Leonard swore she could read minds because she just carried right on answering his unspoken protests.

“It’s only half an hour before he would start anyway. Plus, I’m going to take at least a third of that PADD stack you’ve got. I’m your Head Nurse, I can handle these.”

That was how neatly Christine punctured Leonard’s plan to work himself into unconsciousness. He deflated.

“Ok, ok, you win. But don’t you go thinkin’ you’re gonna walk all over me this easily every day, Chris. I’m not going that soft.”

“You, Leonard? Soft? Never.” She replied with a smirk.

If Leonard was a religious man, he’d have thanked whatever god had delivered Christine back into his sickbay. After an…encounter with Jim that had got out of hand, and her subsequent two month stint on some outer frontier space station, he had missed her quick wit, and her even quicker reflexes, especially in medical emergencies. While Mara was a good nurse, Christine’s almost supernatural empathic intuition, made her an _amazing_ one.

He quirked his mouth in a half-smile, before going to submit the crew evaluation to the archives; he could sleep after that. The PADDs would have to wait until tomorrow. Now his mind had been made up, his body decided it had been given the go-ahead to complain about how tired it was. Leonard yawned long and hard as he moved to the medical computer.

He made to submit the 430 documents as ‘complete’, when an error popped up on the screen.

 

_< <FILE INCOMPLETE>>_

 

The computer voiced. Leonard grit his teeth, and punched it in again. Red flashed on the screen as a mechanical voice rang out.

 

_< <FILE INCOMPLETE>>_

“You worthless piece of junk, what the hell is the madder with you? You got all 430 reports right ‘ere, you- right, fine. Have it your way.”

 

_< COMPUTER, locate missing crew member file>_

The computer thought for a second.

 

_< <UNABLE TO LOCATE MISSING CREW MEMBER FILE>>_

“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean? Either I’m missing a crew member or I ain’t. Make up your mind!” He groused. Was he really going to have to have an elaborate dance with the Enterprise computer right now? Six months in space in the most advanced tin can Starfleet could cook up and it still didn’t know its crew. He ran a hand roughly through his hair.

 

_< COMPUTER, ANALYSE number of ENTERPRISE crew>_

_< <COMPLETE: THERE ARE CURRENTLY 431 LIFEFORMS ABOARD THE USS ENTERPRISE>>_

Leonard blinked. That can’t be right. They’d stopped off at Starbase 107 three days before, adjusted the crew roster and logged it following their departure – the total had been 430.

 

_< COMPUTER, request confirmation of PREVIOUS ANALYSIS>_

The computer thought for a second.

 

_< < COMPLETE: THERE ARE CURRENTLY 431 LIFEFORMS ABOARD THE USS ENTERPRISE>>_

 

Leonard frowned and thought. Perhaps an error had occurred when updating the crew roster. It was either that or…

Or they had a stowaway on board.

 

 

On the bridge, Jim’s feet tapped a restless staccato on the bridge floor.

 _Exploration my ass_ , he thought as he idly swung the chair in slow semi-circles, _if I wanted to spend days on end doing nothing, I’d have stayed on in Iowa_.

Let it be known that James Tiberius Kirk, in his youth, was not a man to simply sit and watch the stars go by. No, his genetic makeup was at all times practically _screaming_ to be doing something, or at least some _one_. He’d go over to the science console and annoy Spock for a bit, but while Vulcans may be incapable of emotions, that didn’t make them incapable of scathing retorts at irritating SOs – Jim feared he’s come out of the next engagement with a complex. Uhura would find an uncomfortable place to stick her boot if he went over to her for the third time this Alpha shift, Sulu wouldn’t rise to _any_ of his taunts and Chekov, well, Jim just felt _guilty_ pushing his buttons.

That really only left Bones.

Jim looked down as the communications pad on his chair beeped. He grinned at the blue light.

 _Speak of the devil_.

“Kirk here.” He opened the channel.

_//Jim, it’s McCoy.//_

Jim rolled his eyes – who else would it be.

“Bones you should get up here; you’re missing out on a particularly spectacular patch of Empty Space.” He expected a snort and sarcastic retort from his CMO, but instead there was just a small pause. He frowned.

“Everything okay?”

_//Well, nobody’s hurt. It’s just…might be nothing, but you prob’ly should still know. Jim, the computer’s tellin’ me we got an extra body on board.//_

Jim’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

_//I was puttin’ in the crew’s physical evals when the computer tells me I ain’t got ‘em all down. Now, I **know** the crew, I’ve been doin’ these evals for six months and I ain’t missed a man yet. Y’know we updated the roster after leavin’ Starbase 107? We had 430 crew at that point. Now, we got 431.//_

“Are you sure the computer didn’t make a miscalculation?” Jim asked. When Bones replied he could hear the frustration even across the comm.

_//Jim, I been and checked the roster myself, asked the computer to re-calculate three times and even had Scotty run a diagnostic – the results are fine. I think we got a stowaway.//_

Bones concluded. Jim rubbed a palm across his face in thought.

“Alright, thanks Bones, I’ll check into it.” He shut off the comm. on the Southern grumbling on the other side, before turning to the ops console towards the front.

“Lieutenant, uhhh, lieutenant-“

A blonde woman with a statement hairstyle primly turned to acknowledge him.

“Rand, sir.”

“Yeah, Lieutenant Rand. Can you do a sweep for an unaccounted for lifeform aboard?”

She looked at him quizzically but none the less tapped her fingers across the display. A few seconds later a string of writing appeared on the screen.

“The computer reports the unaccounted lifeform is confirmed.”

“Okay, can it tell us the species?”

Tap tap.

Blip.

“Computer can only report it as ‘unidentified’, captain.”

“What? How can we not identify an alien species? What do they program into these ships?” He asked in disbelief. Rand shook her head.

“No, sir, we _can_ identify species aboard the vessel. This simply means the race has no DNA data on record.”

Kirk thought on this for a second. If the ship had nothing on record, it either meant the intruder was of an undiscovered/contacted species, or it was an enemy – not a Klingon, they had plenty of DNA on them. If the intruder was a Romulan, it would have still come up as a Vulcan composite scan. Best tread carefully.

“Sir?” Rand was still waiting on further orders.

“Lieutenant, confirm location of unidentified lifeform.”

Tap tap.

Blip.

“Lifeform is currently stationary in rec room 2, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Jim pressed the comm. on his seat and watched the red light blink on.

“Kirk to security.”

_//Giotto here, captain. What can I do for you?//_

“Giotto, get Hendorff and go to Rec Room 2, Deck F. Phasers on stun, gentlemen. I’ll meet you there.”

_//Aye, sir.//_

Jim practically bounded out of his seat; finally, some _action_. Even if it was nothing but an undiscovered blip in the computer wiring, it was at least something to _do_. If he sat still for one more minute, he might have done something he regretted. And he didn’t regret much.

He was halfway to the door, when Spock materialised at his shoulder. He tilted his head at him in question, while Spock stared back.

“Since you are contacting an unknown individual of possibly hostile intent, it is only logical that your second in command accompany you for support. Besides, my superior strength may be beneficial in this situation.” He concluded. Jim grinned at him and clapped him briefly on the shoulder.

“Let’s hope that will be unnecessary, right, Mister Spock? Mister Sulu, you have the conn.” He threw over his shoulder as the turbolift closed on them.

 

 Jim and Spock met up with the security detail before proceeding towards the rec room. Barely a passer-by glanced at them; they’d seen weirder shit go down on the Enterprise. If they weren’t on Red Alert, it just wasn’t worth taking the time to be curious about anything anymore. Eventually they arrived, taking a moment to pause outside the room. Jim turned to his team.

“Alright, you lot wait here while I check out the scene.”

Spock raised an eyebrow in what he would deny later was disbelief.

“Captain, are you sure that is wise? We have no idea what sort of a lifeform we would be dealing with, or whether it will resort to force, or perhaps even take hostages-“

“ _Relax_ , Mister Spock. So far, the lifeform hasn’t _done_ anything. I’m going to go in there casually and _subtly_. I can do subtly!” He insisted when Spock’s eyebrow ascended even higher.

“I’m going in, no more arguments. But…do be on standby.” He added. Giotto nodded and Kirk casually sauntered into the rec room.

The recreational centres of the Enterprise were some of his favourite places on the ship, as they were intended to be to all crew members, apart from Bones. With one wall of the room a transparent view-screen to the outside, Bones hated the oppressive feeling of all that space pressing in on all sides, just waiting for the slightest ship malfunction so it could suck you out into the frigid, dark maws of space. Or at least, that’s what he said.

For his part, Jim found the viewscreen to be very calming. The room was also always half-full with officers just coming off shift or the occasional crewman plagued with insomnia who usually ended up falling asleep curled up on one of the couches scattered around the room. There were tables, smaller than in the mess hall, but still big enough that one could eat a snack in peace, and large potted plants dotting the space at intervals. Sulu had once pointed out the ones he specifically enjoyed cultivating; unfortunately, Jim had also spotted a particularly pretty looking ensign at that moment, and to this day couldn’t remember which ones he’d mentioned. He did feel a bit guilty about that.

Now though, Jim wasn’t appreciating the comfort of the rec-room. It was relatively quiet now, being the switch-over period when Beta shift was getting ready to start and Alpha shift was winding down, while Gamma shift was sleeping. He scanned the room – a few officers were playing chess on one table, another was sleeping face-down over his tray of protein-cubes, a group of friends were toasting this or that with glasses of Green, and one officer was sat apart at the back, still, silently watching over the others with an intent, studious gaze. From where he was standing, Jim couldn’t make a good decision on the gender – it _appeared_ human, with short dark hair and darker eyes. It was wearing a dress-like uniform, but that wasn’t enough to determine it as female. Kirk had seen quite a few male crewmembers who preferred the skant for mobility. Its face looked either like a feminine human male, or a masculine human female.

While he assessed the officer with a trained eye, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. _Approach with caution_ , a voice that sounded suspiciously like Spock advised in his head.

 _And don’t try and sleep with it_ , that one sounded very much like McCoy.

Pushing out all voices that weren’t his own, Jim wandered over to the stranger, casually slouching into one of the empty chairs at the stranger’s table. He pretended to observe the rec room in silence for a moment before looking at the lifeform out of the corner of his eye.

Only to be faced with a very interested and _very_ intense stare. Holy shit, that was creepy. He cleared his throat.

“So…what’s a pretty anomaly like you doing in a place like this?”

For a moment the lifeform just continued to stare at him, almost through him, before it smiled. And fucking hell did it _smile_ – despite having a completely normal-human-like dental structure, the creature somehow managed to smile with _too many teeth_. The hairs at the back of Jim’s neck tried to run away from the situation. It was like a mouse tickling the nose of a sleeping lion, or whatever space-themed equivalent you’d like to substitute it with.

“Anomaly, captain? I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.” The voice too was perfectly balanced for androgyny – deep and husky, but Jim had heard women with smokier voices.

“I assume, as a-“ He checked the ranking stripes on their long sleeves, “-lieutenant commander, you have a name?”

 _Fuck that smile, seriously_ , Jim’s brain muttered.

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“Do you speak in anything but non-sequiturs?”

“Sometimes.”

Ok, Jim had had _enough_.

“As captain of the ship you are currently on board of, I demand you identify yourself.” He commanded, in what Sulu had once termed his Captain Voice. It had sent many an ensign running for the nearest console to hide behind. The being just tilted its head.

“Kyw.”

“Q?” Jim asked. It shrugged.

“Spelling’s subjective of course.”

Jim faced Kyw, arms folded across his chest and his face stern and business-like.

“Kyw, we know you are not a part of this crew. You are _not_ supposed to be on this ship. Why are you here? If you’re trying to cause trouble-“

Kyw laughed.

“Me? Trouble, Captain Kirk? I’m but a simple historian; if you hadn’t gone poking around, nobody would have known I was here at all.”

“A historian.” Jim framed the question as a statement, injecting all the sarcasm and doubt readily supplied by the situation he found himself in.

“Oh yes. I’ve heard _so_ many things about this ship.”

“Really.”

“Hmmm. The _famous_ Captain Kirk, or should I say _infamous_? Considering the amount of trouble you run into, you seemed the perfect ship for my little experiment.”

“You’re sounding more like a scientist than a ‘historian’.” He mocked. Kyw absently tapped a finger against the seat-armrest. Jim noticed in passing the perfect state of Kyw’s fingernails.

“Ah, see _this_ is interesting. You people’s need to _categorise_ everything. You seem absolutely resistant to any fluidity in the world! It’s _fascinating_.” Jim thought how Spock would hate the word the way Kyw said it (that is, if Vulcans could hate – that one was an ongoing uphill battle).

“Look, Kyw just tell us who you are. I could easily get my CMO to take a thousand and one samples from you instead, but that would just waste all of our time.”

Kyw narrowed its eyes; finally, a reaction.

“You could certainly _try_. None of the others ever managed to stick one of us.” It frowned momentarily.

“Well, there was that whole messy business when Q got himself a proper body and everything. Horrid. Bet they got lots of lovely samples from him there.”

“Wait, wait, Q? I thought you said you were Q? And who are they? What are you talking about?” Jim was officially Confused, if he could have passed his previous state off as anything but.

“I _am_ Q. Or Kyw. He is also Q. We are Q. Q likes to…meddle with your affairs.”

“No, you’re wrong. We’ve never encountered a…Q.”

Kyw scoffed.

“Well, obviously not in _this_ universe.”

Jim frowned and leaned in.

“You know of alternate universes?”

Kyw looked at him out of the side of its eye. An upward quirk snagged the side of its mouth.

“Of course. It is the only thing of interest anymore, no? Knowing everything that has been or will be in a universe is eternally boring. But new universes, created in an instant without our doing, actions unfurling second upon second – fascinating. I, a mere, _humble_ , historian endeavour to…observe.”

“So…you’re here to _experience_ time?” Jim asked, trying to wrap his head around what the creature was saying. Trans-dimension omnipotent beings? It didn’t seem to fit with the admittedly slightly creepy, yet very much human looking figure sitting beside him. That figure now had a truly disgusted look on its face.

“Experience? Gosh, no. No. It is the difference between…studying the interaction of acids, and trying to bathe in them. Definitely not recommended.”

“So where are the other Q. Can we expect them to pop around for tea any time soon?” Kirk asked sarcastically. Kyw just shrugged, sighing deeply.

“I wouldn’t know, Kirk. Probably not – to stretch that analogy further, it is the difference between studying the interaction of acids, and reading about the fact that acids exist. You are of very little importance to the majority of the universe, quite frankly. Most Q are tired of every and all universes, let alone a small section of it, containing a tiny organisation of which a miniscule ship is drifting through space. No, I shouldn’t think you’ll have to watch out for them anytime soon, if at all.”

They lapsed into silence for a while. As they had talked, the rec room had steadily emptied, whether simply by chance, or because the inhabitants had felt the borderline tension that had hovered between the two. Now the room was silent, one of (maybe) Sulu’s plants waving purple stems through the air.

“So…”

“So?” Kyw repeated, as if mocking.

“You know you can’t stay on the ship, right?”

“Oh, why not?”

Jim had a pretty convincing ‘baffled face’, as verified by Bones, and he employed it to its best effect just then.

“Because…you’re not Starfleet?”

“Am I not wearing your uniform?” Kyw asked innocently, waving one blue-clad arm in demonstration. A scowl crawled onto Jim’s face as he slapped the offending appendage out of the air.

“Starfleet is more than a uniform!” He snapped.

“It’s a set of, of morals, and _ethics_.”

“Oh I have morals and ethics aplenty, applicable to every situation. I don’t see the problem.”

Jim ground his teeth in frustration.

“It- it doesn’t _work_ like that. You need to enter into the Federation first, and then be certified, and-“

“Come now, James T. Kirk, we both know I am both more qualified and more capable than you or anyone else in your Federation.” There was that creepy hair-raising feeling again. Jim slid out of his chair, in defensive mode again in a second.

“It doesn’t matter.” He insisted.

“You have encroached, without warning or permission, on Federation space.” He noticed the rec room doors sliding open and Spock and the security officers come in as backup. “You will be taken into custody until Starfleet Command can be notified. You are entitled to representation and fair treatment while you are under our protection. Do you comply?”

Kyw remained calmly seated even when it was being stared down by Jim, with three phasers pointed at it by very determined men. It rolled bored-looking eyes at the company.

“Oh, how _droll_.”

Kyw vanished.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...don't really know where I'm going with this story, I'm just warnin' ya now.

Jim reared back at the brief flash of light as Kyw disappeared. He cursed, spinning around as Hendorff made a confused noise. Giotto was already snapping orders into his communicator.

“Shit. Spock where’d it go?”

Spock’s eyebrow tried to reach the ceiling.

“I do not know, captain. Considering this Kyw made no overt movements or references to its future plans, I cannot extrapolate its future destination.”

 _Smug bastard_.

Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Jim holstered his phaser, all the while resisting the impulse to just run blindly through the ship until he found Kyw. He wasn’t comfortable in the least with a powerful, unknown being running freely around his ship, around his _crew_.

Before he could work himself up too much, his communicator signalled. He flipped the lid open with a click.

“Kirk here. What is it?” He snapped.

Sulu’s hesitant voice rang through from the other end.

_//It’s Sulu, captain. I think you should come up to the bridge, sir. There’s something…you might want to see.//_

He sounded unnerved, which sent Jim’s brain straight to Red Alert – Sulu was _never_ unnerved. He needed to get up on the bridge.

“Got it. Be there in a second. Kirk out.” He stashed the communicator and signalled to his men.

“We need to be up on the bridge five minutes ago. Stay on high alert, let’s go.”

 

By the time the turbolift stopped at the bridge, Jim’s nerves were wound tighter than a bow string. He fidgeted, phaser in his hand. He had an idea of what was happening on the bridge – Kyw wouldn’t just jump ship because of a few stun-setting blasters. Probably not even for full power phasers. Jim had an uncomfortable feeling Kyw would throw the ship into disarray faster than he could catch it.

A calm hand settled on his shoulder, and he looked back at his First Officer, who quickly retrieved his hand. Sure, Jim often clapped Spock on the shoulder for the slightest positive news, but Spock rarely returned physical contact in any situations but when he felt Jim needed some form of human comfort. As Bones wasn’t available, his brief touch would have to do.

And it did do; Jim felt a little lighter, and shot a tight smile at his friend.

“It’ll be fine.” He said. Jim thought he could see Spock biting back a comment on the futile delusions of optimism, but both men refrained from commenting further.

The turbolift doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Jim made to rush forward, only to be brought to an abrupt stop barely a few steps out.

The first thing he registered were the number of officers with their phasers pointed at the captain’s chair. The second thing was the head of dark hair poking out of the top of the chair back, over a yellow command shirt. The chair swung around to face Jim.

 

Jim felt his heart drop to his feet. He could only stare, breath coming hard and fast as pure noise roared in his ear. His chest beat with the painful thud of a heart in agony. All he could do was focus on the figure before him.

“You-“ He choked out.

“At ease, Jim.” Christopher Pike said easily. There he sat, leaning casually on one of the chair arms, legs spread in an easy stance of command, his stern face relaxed as he looked steadily on at Jim.

He couldn’t _move_. Jim’s body was in shock as he stared at his very much alive, very much _real_ mentor. What-

He felt Spock move up behind him; even in such situations, he kept some awareness around him.

“Jim.” Spock said quietly in his ear. “That is _not_ Admiral Pike.”

Then Christopher Pike _grinned with too many teeth_.

Jim saw red. His hands shook as he stared at Kyw.

“How- how _dare you_ -“ He snarled. Kyw just looked at him innocently.

“I just thought to put you more at ease… _captain_.”

With a yell, before Spock could react and snag his shirt, Jim threw himself at Kyw, blind in his rage, in his need to strangle that alien who had dared to resurrect the face of his mentor from where he’d laid him to rest.

Yet, instead of his hands tangling in a gold shirt, Jim landed face-first into the seat of the captain’s chair. He remained still there for a moment, breathing hard and shaking with unsuppressed anger. His shoulders shook in pain – as quickly as Pike had come, he was once again gone (and it helped none that his brain knew Pike had never really come back; that first sentence of “at ease, Jim” had opened up that raw wound of loss that had only just healed).

He was brought out of his paralysis when Chekov’s voice filtered out to him.

“Keptin, keptin, you vill haf to do better zhan zhat.”

Jim turned to his navigator, and even before he saw him he knew it wasn’t Chekov. Well, it _was_ Chekov, but it wasn’t _Chekov_. Jim saw Sulu stare at Chekov with wide eyes, edging away slightly.

“I will say this only once, Kyw. Keep. Away. From. My. Crew!”

Chekov rolled his eyes, body straightening in a rebellious manner Jim knew Chekov would never pull off in real life. He didn’t know whether Kyw was impersonating Chekov, or whether it had taken over his body, but either way, Jim was just about ready to throw the creature out of the air-lock.

“Or vhat, keptin? Will you zhrow me out of airlock?” He asked in a mocking tone.

Jim stiffened; could it read his thoughts?

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity to his right, from the ops console. Kyw looked on with mild interest through Chekov’s eyes as Rand raised her head.

“Captain, small, unidentified vessel port-side.”

“Not now, lieutenant.” Jim snapped, waving his hand dismissively, never taking his eyes off of Kyw. Chekov looked back at him and raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“You should get zhat, keptin. It’s probably important.”

Suddenly, Chekov jolted and blinked his eyes in a disorientated manner. It was a second before he noticed the heavy scrutiny he was under.

“K-keptin?” He stuttered nervously. Jim gave him a small, tight smile.

“It’s good to have you back, ensign.” Kyw was gone, at least for now. Jim knew now he couldn’t exactly do anything about it for the moment, not until it decided to show itself again. He turned to Rand.

“What was that about a vessel, lieutenant?” In the background he briefly registered Chekov muttering to Sulu _“Vhere did I go?”_.

“Sir, the Enterprise is picking up a small, unidentifiable vessel. It seems to be drifting, sir.”

“Captain, I’m picking up an automated distress signal too. From initial analysis, I’d say about five years old.” Uhura called from her communications station.

Jim sighed and rubbed tired hands across his face – it had only been about an hour in total from when he’d been itching to do _anything_. Now, he just wanted to sit down and recover from the tailspin Kyw had put on the day. He also noticed only the fringes of Alpha shift had switched over; his core officers were dedicated as always – if Jim didn’t finish up the shift, they wouldn’t either.

He gingerly lowered himself into the captain’s chair, dismissing Giotto and Hendorff, while Spock seated himself at the science- station.

“Uhura, open hailing frequencies.”

“I’ve been trying, sir, hailing frequencies open on all channels, no response.”

“Hmm, Spock, if the distress signal is five years old, what do you think the chances are there’s anyone still alive in that thing?”

Spock considered this for a moment.

“I would approximate a survival rate of human passengers at 6.2%, considering the length of time elapsed and the shuttle’s location far out from any starbase or civilisation advanced enough to offer aid. However, even if there are no survivors, Starfleet regulations insist the drifting vessel be turned over to the nearest Starbase if possible.”

“Yeah, Spock, thanks for that; I wasn’t actually going to just waltz right on by anyway.” Jim grunted.

Although he couldn’t see him, he could practically _hear_ Spock’s eyebrow rising at his tone.

“I was only trying to-“

“Yeah well don’t okay? Just- don’t.” He was _tired_. Yes, Jim was focussed on the situation, but Pike’s face still hovered on the fringes of his consciousness, fraying his patience.

He punched in communication to engineering.

_//Scott ‘ere.//_

“Scotty, we have a suspected flotsam vessel at-“ He glanced over to the helm.

“Bearing 044 – mark – 30.” Sulu called over.

“-bearing 044 – mark – 30. Lock the tractor beam onto it and pull it into shuttlebay 3. We’re unsure if there’re any survivors, so try not to turn it into a carousel down there.”

_//Sair, have ye’ met me? I’ll have ‘er in smooth as a lassie’s leg on ‘er weddin’ night.//_

“You just…do that, Scotty. I’ll be at the bay in a few moments. Kirk out.” He shut off engineering before switching the comm. channel to medical.

“Kirk to McCoy.”

 _//Chapel here, Captain. Can I help you?//_ Came a slightly frosty voice.

“Nurse, is Bones around?” Jim asked, somewhat flatly. He was still slightly uncomfortable around the woman. After their…situation, and having _forgotten_ about her of all things, he’d felt vaguely guilty (and scared of what Carol might do if he came within a ten-foot radius of the woman). He tried to avoid interacting with her when possible.

 _//He’s just about to leave. To sleep. Which he hasn’t done in a while.//_ She informed him pointedly.

Yes, okay, so Jim’s been called thick-headed by most of the people in his life on a regular basis, but even he could pick up on what she was trying to tell him, even if she hadn’t liberally laced her response with thick disapproval. Before he could make a reply, he heard some kind of whisper-argument going on on the other side.

_//Give ‘im here._

_No. Leonard, if you go one more shift without getting a proper night’s rest, M’Benga and I will have to scrape you out of bed in the mornings. You’re hardly fit for duty-_

_Give it ‘ere, woman! I’m fit as a raven at a funeral if I’m still walkin’ around on me own two feet, a’ight?_

_Leonard Horatio McCoy, don’t you-_

**_McCoy here. What’s the damage, Jim?_ ** _//_

Obviously Bones had won that battle, but not the war from the hellfire he could hear Christine muttering in the background.

“Am I interrupting something?”

_//A date with the dear lady My Bed, but nothing I can’t handle. You found out who our stowaway is?//_

“Ah, that. Long story; we’ve moved on. Can you meet me in shuttlebay 3? Or send a medical team?”

_//Well, when it rains it pours. Yeah, I’ll be there Jim. What am I bein’ called in for? Scotty got his carrots and sprouts caught in a shuttle door again?//_

Jim could hear him put together a medical kit as a spoke. He shuddered at the mental image Bones had provided.

“No. We’re getting a damaged shuttle in, we can’t tell if there’re any survivors. The hull is made of some kind of scan-proof metal. I want a medical officer on standby just in case.”

_//Fine, Jim, on my way. McCoy out – oh, stop **fussing** Chris, I ain’t gonna fall apart where I stand y’know-//_

Jim chuckled as his medical crew bitched at each other. Shutting off the communications, he stood, wincing as he heard his knees click in protest. It was all that up-down-up-down he’d been doing that day. He shook his head despairingly; he was a young man! He’ll probably end up having back problems at thirty!

“Mister Spock, you have the conn. Dr Marcus, if you’ll accompany me to the shuttlebay.” Carol nodded, leaving her station to Spock if needs be and joining Jim in the turbolift.

“Let’s go see what the horta dragged in.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaguely gross descriptions in this chapter, but nothing too bad.

Shuttlebay 3 was neither the smallest nor the largest of the bays, but definitely the most protected – when the Enterprise had been re-built, all four shuttlebays had been renovated, although only one had been outfitted with three different kinds of radiation protection, a hull twice as thick as necessary and a walkway around the room near the top, where security personnel could oversee landing of what the engineers had assumed would be a hostile craft.

In this case, the shuttle most likely wasn’t hostile; it probably wasn’t _anything_ , but considering they couldn’t scan the inside of the thing, Jim wanted to err on the side of caution. Despite his reputation as a hot-headed daredevil, the Khan accident had opened his eyes somewhat to the consequences of spontaneous decisions.

This didn’t mean he was emptying half the ship’s security into this project. He wasn’t _that_ paranoid. No, the party that greeted the shuttle as it was pulled backwards into the Enterprise by its tractor beam comprised of Jim, Dr Marcus, Scotty, Bones and a medical ensign who was holding the med-kit. Two security officers stood at the back, but Jim had a gut-feeling they wouldn’t be seeing much action that day.

A dull thud echoed through the bay, followed by the loud screeching of the bay doors closing, before silence finally settled in its wake. Carol immediately whipped out a tricorder, trying to get a more accurate reading from where they were standing. They were all keeping an initial safe distance-

Well, apparently all except for Scotty, who was rubbing his hands in glee as he practically _skipped_ to the shuttle. He walked around it until he ended up on the opposite side. He suddenly stuck up his hand, waving at the party.

“Hey cap’n! Ah found something. It says the name o’ the ship righ’ ‘ere, sair. Gimme a moment- uuh, she’s pretty dinged up ‘ere, hmm – ah! We got our ‘ands on the _Inheritance_. ‘S the name o’ this beaut.”

“Spare me the sonnet, Scotty.” Jim said dryly. So they knew the name of the shuttle now – this helped them _nothing_. Or actually…

He flipped open his communicator.

“Kirk to Bridge – Mister Gatt?”

 _//GATT HERE.//_ Came the mechanical voice.

“Mister Gatt, could you run a general search for Human-type long range shuttles under the name ‘ _Inheritance_ ’?”

_//WILL DO. I WILL REPORT THE RESULTS. GATT OUT.//_

_Oh you are a sweet talker, Mister Gatt_ , Jim thought sarcastically. Ah well, at least he actually did his job properly. He snapped closed his communicator.

“Dr Marcus, are you reading anything?”

She shook her blonde bob, futilely shaking the tricorder.

“I’m afraid not, Captain. The shuttle is completely impenetrable by our scanners.”

Jim sighed.

“Okay, well, I guess there’s nothing for it. Security, stand by. Let’s pop this baby open.”

“Oh finally! I thought the tension was going to kill me.”

Jim groaned out loud when he heard who’d spoken.

“Uuurgh, I wish it had.” He turned to the suddenly very familiar medical ensign.

“Look Kyw, can’t you just…go away? Just- go.”

Bones looked from Jim to the ensign and back.

“What-“

“Aww, but I want to see what’s in the shuttle, Jim!”

“I have a feeling you already know what’s in the shuttle.” He said flatly.

“Hang on-“

“Maybe-“

Bones blew up.

“Now hang on a thrice damned second. Who the hell’re you? You ain’t a member of my medical team that’s fer sure!” He ranted.

Jim took a deep breath, trying to keep his tenuous hold on the conversation.

“Look, Bones, just- ok, ok, you know that stowaway we talked about? Kyw’s it. Kyw, Bones, Bones, Kyw. That’s done with, can we just open the shuttle please?”

He barely finished the sentence before Bones had grabbed his arm in a tight grip and pulled Jim off to the side, putting his face close to his and whispering furiously.

“Are you outta your star-spangled mind, Jim? That’s an unknown lifeform right there! It doesn’t have the right to be wearing a Starfleet uniform, walking around the ship willy-nilly, and _definitely_ not to be here, now! The hell’s got int’a ya, kid?”

“Bones, it’s… _complicated_ , I-“

“Right, the last time you started an excuse off like that, I had to pull you out of an alien orgy before they bit your lower thrusters off-“

“No, really, Bones. Just this time, trust me. There is… _nothing_ , nothing we can do about Kyw, not right now. So far, it hasn’t done anything to hinder us. If, _if_ it does turn out to be hostile, we’ll have to deal with it then and there, because Kyw certainly isn’t going to leave just because I ask it nicely, or even if I ask it not-nicely. Alright? Good, so let’s open that shuttle before the tension does _me_ in.”

He left Bones fuming and grumbling under his breath as he gestured to Scotty to open the shuttle doors, placed on both sides of the craft.

Scotty juggled some kind of engineering device for a second before a small ‘beep’ rang out and the shuttle doors lifted up near-silently. Immediately, a whole multitude of small items fell out, rolling across the shuttlebay. Jim thought he could spot a few cups, chess-pieces, a boot, some kind of screw – miscellaneous knick-knacks really.

He wearily approached, although careful to keep Kyw in sight out of the corner of his eye. Scotty was already peering into the ship when he swore and recoiled.

“Scotty?”

“S-sair, there’s bodies. Two ah ‘em.” That explains that; for all his technological genius, Scotty really wasn’t one who could handle death well. Machines didn’t die after all – humans did it far too often. Kirk waved Scotty away.

“Step back, Mister Scott. Your expertise can wait for a while.” The engineer shot him a grateful look before fleeing, immediately being replaced by Bones on the other side of the ship. Finally Kirk too peered into the interior.

The shuttle was relatively small – long-range ships usually got pared down to the minimum inside to make space for the machines that were needed to power these ships at minimal waste for a long period of time. The _Inheritance_ doors opened up halfway between the front and back of the ship – to the front was a series of displays and controls, used to navigate and display ship schematics. A red warning light was blinking, next to a small lit up screen displaying the word ‘ _SOS_ ’. But Jim wasn’t focussing on that.

His attention was drawn to the body of the man slumped in the pilot seat – his eyes were bulging out, and the nose and lips blue as if exposed to frost-bite. A thick, blackened tongue was lolling out of the mouth. All the veins in the man’s face seemed to stand out against the surface. The corpse was still strapped into the flight harness. No wonder the ghastly sight had sent Scotty running for the exit. Kirk bowed his head in respect for a moment before looking up to see Bones scanning the body with his tricorder. Their eyes met and he could see the pain in Bones’ eyes.

“Explosive decompression. There must’ve been a hull-breach or some’in’ – sucked the artificial air right outta the craft; ‘e would’ve suffocated within a minute. Some’in’ must’ve clogged the breach righ’ afterwards; ‘is body’s been preserved by the life support. Could only ‘ve kicked in if the breach were stoppered.” He explained.

Jim was abruptly reminded of Bones’ fear of flying, and as he looked at the body he suddenly completely understood. Of course, the _Enterprise_ had a far more advanced fail-safe; if a breach occurred, the system could re-institute life-support and re-pressurize within half a second. But the cheaper shuttle…

Jim shuddered. He caught sight of the random items dotting the shuttlebay floor.

“All this stuff must have been loose. When the cabin got exposed to the vacuum, the items probably got sucked towards the de-pressured location, filling in the hole. Must have been a very small breach.” He pondered.

“’s all it needs, Jim.” Bones said seriously. “Where’s the other one?”

 _Oh right_ , Jim thought, _Scotty mentioned two_. He looked to the empty co-pilot’s seat, then turned his head to look at the back. One of the passenger seats was empty, and the other one-

A figure, restrained by its harness, was slumped over in the chair, dark hair falling over its face. It was dressed in a blue and red ensemble, some kind of dress. The hands that peeked out from the long sleeves were deathly pale. The medical tricorder whirred.

“No life signs.” Bones said regretfully. Jim sighed, and climbed into the cabin. He didn’t exactly want to see the horrible symptoms of ED stamped across another face, but he felt like he owed it to this stranger to at least look them in the face. He navigated the seats before placed a hand on a cold, clammy jaw. He lifted the head.

Jim reared back.

“What the hell?”


End file.
